The Kirk-Spock Scandal of 2016
by Ms.TamborineMan
Summary: A modern, political AU fic. James T Kirk is elected president of the United States in 2016. On the day he is sworn in, he meets his very stoic and attractive personal bodyguard, Agent Spock, who happens to save his life at the luncheon directly after his inauguration. Meanwhile, a Republican Senate unhappy with Kirk's very liberal political views plots to impeach him.
1. Chapter 1

A modern, political AU fic. James T Kirk is elected president of the United States in 2016. On the day he is sworn in, he meets his very stoic and attractive personal bodyguard, Agent Spock, who happens to save his life at the luncheon directly after his inauguration. Meanwhile, a Republican Senate unhappy with Kirk's very liberal political views plots to impeach him.

**AN: Or at least that's the plan. I'm not really sure where I'm going with this. I blame insomnia for this one. **

Chapter One

"Got my speech together, Nyota? James Kirk asked.

His secretary was wearing a solid red dress and holding a stack of papers in one manicured hand, which she promptly turned over to him. "Right here, Mr. Kirk," she smiled. "Or shall I say...Mr. President."

He chuckled, readjusting his tie. This one was red. He'd been wearing a purple one before, but Nyota had insisted that it would be no good, and had sent one of his assistants to fetch a new one twenty minutes prior to now. It had to be red. Something about leadership and appearance. He didn't know and didn't care-he'd leave that to Nyota.

"You made it heartfelt, right?" he asked. "Just like I told you to?"

"Oh, it's heartfelt," Nyota assured him. "Just the way you wanted it."

He smiled. "Good. Now, where's my wife?"

"She's outside already."

"How much longer?"

"Six minutes."

Six minutes. He looked up just as two men dressed in black and wearing sunglasses walked up. The first one looked to be in his mid-forties, lines etched into his face and silver tinting his brown hair. The other was tall, lean, and dark-haired with markedly large ears.

"Hello, Mr. President," the first one said. "My name is Christopher Pike. I am the head of the Secret Service." he stepped forward, sticking out his hand.

Kirk took it. "Nice to meet you, Pike."

He stepped back and introduced the other man as Agent Spock. "We want to make sure that you are protected at all times. He will serve as your personal bodyguard."

Spock did not extend his hand, just nodded. "At your service," he said.

Kirk nodded. "Good," he said, turning to Pike. "Good."

They exchanged a couple of casualties and each other's phone numbers before Pike left, leaving him, Nyota, and Spock standing there.

"Are you all ready, Mr. Kirk?" asked Nyota.

Kirk nodded. "Yeah, Nyota. All ready."

"Alright, then I can..."

"Yeah, you can leave," he said, and with that, she was gone.

Kirk looked to the agent. "What time is it?" he asked.

"11:58.16," he answered in a monotone, not even looking down for a watch. Baffled, Kirk shook his head. Secret Service Agents must have had some sort of internal clock...and an extremely accurate one at that.

"Well," he said, tugging at his tie for one final time. "Are you ready, Agent?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Affirmative," he said.

* * *

"I, James Tiberius Kirk, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I will take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion, and that I will faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter."

With his left hand still raised, he glanced over at his wife, Janice, and smiled as the crowd around him applauded. The band launched into "Hail to the Chief". He then looked around to catch a glimpse of Nyota, standing off to the side. When she saw him looking, she mouthed, 'Don't mess up.'

The secret service agent was still standing beside him, stone still and staring straight ahead. Kirk nudged him and he turned his head slowly.

"Hey," he whispered. "Would you, uh," he motioned to the pulpit in front of him, "...move that?"

He did not reply but in swiftly and quietly moving the pulpit to pace the crowd. Kirk positioned himself at it as the agent repositioned himself beside him, calmly reigning his hands behind his back. He tapped the microphone with one finger, testing it. The chatter of the crowd dimmed.

He took this moment to look out at the sea of faces on the Capitol's green. The day was bright, cloudless, the sun warming his shoulders. And, at once, was amazed at how he'd gotten here in the first place. He'd come so far from that abusive household in Iowa.

He launched into the speech in front of him, and realized yet again that Nyota was a genius.

* * *

_Now remember what I said about eating_, he heard Nyota's voice in his head as he sat the grand table. Thinking this, he sat up a little straighter and glanced around until he found her. She shot him a quick smile and quickly averted her gaze.

"Everyone seems to be here," he vice president, Leonard McCoy, said. "Look. There's Willis Fields over there."

"Tell me about it," he whispered back. He picked up his fork and turned it over in his palm, watching as the lights overhead cast a gleam from the silver. "Hey...is this how you hold a fork?"

Leonard shook his head and scoffed. "To hell if I know." he said. "I'm a politician, not a nutritionist."

Everyone _was_ there. His cabinet, the house speaker, the ambassador, Willis and three other former presidents-all his close friends. The room was bright and warm, the air thick. Kirk leaned back as a steaming plate was set in front of him. Realizing that everyone else was doing so, he took his napkin and stuffed it into his lap.

Willis Fields leaned over the table. "So, how does it feel being the president of the United States?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Kirk asked the former president, cutting into the chicken on his plate. He speared it and stuck in in his mouth, chewing for a bit before taking a sip of water. This was quite possibly the driest, toughest chicken he'd ever tasted.

Fields laughed, smiling like a snake. "Can I ask you something?"

"Go right ahead," Kirk said cheerfully, jabbing his fork into the mashed potatoes. Janice looked over at him.

"How old are you, anyway?"

"Thirty six," he answered.

"Youngest damn president ever," Willis said, sounding amused. "...With all due respect sir," he added in a condescending tone.

Leonard leaned over and muttered, "He's just mad because you took his job. Pay him no mind."

Kirk just glared. He opened his mouth to say something, but didn't have to.

"Yeah, well," Nyota cut in, "He's also the best damn politician I know, regardless of age." Everyone's eyes turned to her. She raised her eyebrows, and with a sassy tilt of the head, added, "...With all due respect, of course."

"You're pretty young yourself," Fields barked. "How old are_ you_? Twenty? Twenty-five?"

Her expression darkened. "Thirty-_eight_," she growled.

That shut him up. He looked down to his chicken and did not look back up.

Kirk took another bite of chicken and immediately regretted it. Astonishingly, this piece was even tougher than the last. He chewed and chewed, looking over to his wife, who was chewing also. Finally, he just swallowed the damn thing.

...And was immediately choking.

"Jim!" Janice screamed when she saw that he was clutching his throat. Chairs screeched back. In an instant, a secret service agent was on him. Strong arms wrapped around him, prompting him to look up. He caught sight of a pair of big ears.

"...Ock?" he managed.

"I am certified in CPR and First Aid. Will you let me help you?"

Why even ask? Thought Kirk, but he knew that it must have been standard procedure. But Kirk couldn't breathe, much less respond. Panicked, he must have managed to nod.

And so Agent Spock did the Heimlich on him. He linked his hands together and thrust them into his stomach so hard that Kirk was almost convinced they were bags of brick. The chicken piece shot from his mouth and landed square on Fields' plate. Willis let out a sharp yelp and flew back in his chair.

With a heave, Kirk sucked in a breath, letting the sweet oxygen fill his lungs. He looked around the table. there was not a person who was not staring at him with wide eyes. Still breathing heavily, he looked up at Spock, surprised to see his eyes; before, he'd been wearing sunglasses. They were nice eyes, he decided. Brown eyes. Very...warm brown eyes, contrasting with his cold demeanor.

"You...saved my life...agent..." he said, gasping. "Thank you."

"No thanks is required, Mr. President," Spock replied hollowly. "I am only preforming my duty."

"Tough...first day...huh?" Weakly, Kirk laughed.

Spock's only reply was a raised eyebrow.

"Jim!" Janice cried from next to him. He stood up straight and turned around to face her worried blue eyes. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," he said, Not liking the way his voice sounded, he cleared his throat. "Yes," he said. "I'm fine now."

Everyone at the table visibly relaxed. Leonard, who was also standing, threw out a hearty laugh and patted him on the back. "And here I was thinking that I'd have to take over office on your very first day!"

"You wouldn't be so lucky," Kirk teased, and a chuckling wave passed over the table.

Kirk sat back down. He saw Spock move to leave, but stopped him. "Agent," he said.

"Yes?"

"Can you get the kitchen staff to bring me a new plate? Without the chicken?"

Spock nodded. "I will see what I can do."

He watched as the agent walked away, noticing for the first time that Spock had a nice ass.

A nice ass indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

Recap:_He saw Spock move to leave, but stopped him. "Agent," he said._

_"Yes?"_

_"Can you get the kitchen staff to bring me a new plate? Without the chicken?"_

_Spock nodded. "I will see what I can do."_

_He watched as the agent walked away, noticing for the first time that Spock had a nice ass._

_A nice ass indeed._

**AN-Whoa, Republican bashing. I feel like a traitor. Oh well. Here's the next chapter. **

Chapter Two

The next morning, Kirk stood on the front porch of the white house, watching as secret service agents unloaded furniture. He yawned and stretched his arms above his head. he was wearing a suit. At 6:30 in the morning. Even as a governor, it would have been too early for this.

Just then, his wife came out carrying a coffee mug. "This just came in," she said, handing him a cup.

He breathed in the aroma of steaming hot coffee and smiled. "Thanks, hun," he said, bending down to kiss her cheek.

He caught sight of Nyota, walking across the lawn to them. She was wearing a grim expression, carrying a newspaper.

"What is that?" he asked as she climbed up the stairs to the porch.

"Here," she said, handing it over. He read the headline on the top of the page, screaming at him in large, emboldened print: PRESIDENT JAMES T KIRK ALMOST DIES ON FIRST DAY IN OFFICE. Well. That was a flattering way to put it. He could imagine the political cartoons already.

He took another sip of coffee and handed it back to her without reading another word. "Am I supposed to be worried or something?" he asked.

"Well, you know how crazy those ultra conservatives can get," Nyota said. "They already think you're the anti-Christ. You've got to do _something_ about it."

"God, everyone that's ever been in office is the anti-Christ at least once," Kirk said, laughing. "And besides, what do you suppose I do? Make a proposal to ban the cooking of tough chicken across America?"

Her expression didn't change.

"Oh come on," he whined. "I'm not an anti-Christ. Geez. Where do you even get that idea from this-" he picked up the newspaper again "-article?"

"I don't know. Some people might think that the piece of chicken was a sign of the second coming of Christ."

He couldn't help it. He laughed. The idea was just so outlandish. "The second coming of...You're _joking_, right?"

Nyota just raised an eyebrow. "Just keep in mind, Mr. President, that not everyone likes you."

Yes, he was well aware of that. Hew as not only the youngest president, but quite possibly the most controversial. It was under his governing in Iowa that the marriage statute was changed. he was a very avid advocate of gay marriage and universal healthcare, as well as abortion. One of the things that he promised on his campaign was that he was going to make a liberal definition of marriage on the national level once he was in office. He was also not very religious, and did not pretend to be, which was probably one of the biggest hurdles he had to jump over on the campaign trail. On that case, however, Nyota had insisted that he go to church a couple of times, and that had helped his case tremendously. Nyota was completely and utterly a political genius-so if she thought he should do something about this...choking incident, then he was willing to consider it.

"I know that," he said. "What do you suggest I do? Make a public apology for my almost-death?"

"No, of course not," Nyota said. "But I do suggest that you at least give some credit to the service agent that saved your ass." she paused. "So, you know, you don't look like a complete ungrateful asshole...with all due respect, sir."

"That's more than reasonable." Janice said, nodding.

"Well, okay then." he said. "Send out a press release. Tell them that I said I was very grateful to service agent Spock for saving my life." he looked at her. "But...beef it up a little, m'kay?"

"Yes, Mr. President."

* * *

Kirk was on his second cup of coffee when he walked into his new home for the next four years. Inside, a service agent was configuring a flat-screen TV. He recognized him instantly by his big ears.

"Agent Spock." he said.

Spock stood up and faced him with a militant rigidity. He waited.

Kirk gave him a once over. "Uh." he said. _Think of something, you fool!_ He cleared his throat. "What are your credentials?" he asked finally.

This seemed to surprise the agent. Nevertheless, he rattled them off. "I am a graduate of West Virginia. I have a master's degree in law enforcement. I speak fluent Japanese, Spanish, and French. I have been trained and certified in firearms safety, hand to hand combat, first aid, emergency preparedness, wilderness survival, CPR, and personal defense, as well as achieved the highest ranks in karate, kung-fu, taekwondo, and..."

"Stop," Kirk said. "That's enough."

"Is there anything else you wish to ask, Mr. President?"

"Yes, actually..." Kirk said. "Mr. Spock, are you married?"

His eyebrow shot up. "No." he said.

"That surprises me." Kirk said, smiling like a dope. He slapped his hand to Spock's shoulder. "You are a _very_ attractive man."

Kirk thought he saw his eyes flash, as if the agent were caught off-guard. "I appreciate...the comment, sir." he said. "Is that all?"

"Yes, agent," Kirk said, squeezing his shoulder before letting his hand drop. "Uh...as you were."

Spock dropped back down to the floor, and Kirk stepped back, watching with crossed arms as he plugged the TV into the wall. The screen became blue, displaying the start-up menu. After a couple of minutes of navigating through it with the remote, a channel finally came on. The channel was FOX, and a reporter was talking but the sound was muted. The title at the bottom of the screen was HAS PRESIDENT KIRK BITTEN OFF MORE THAN HE CAN CHEW? After another press of a button, the sound came on.

Kirk grunted. "Damn Republicans." he said to no one in particular. "Can you believe this?" he turned to Spock. "What do you make of all this, anyway?"

"You likely do not wish to know," he answered, not turning around.

"Oh, why not?"

This time he did turn, the slightest bit of amusement in his eyes. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Granted."

"On the last election I cast a ballot for Charles Darwin," Spock said, "It seemed to be the most logical choice."

Kirk scoffed. A secret service agent with a sense of humor. Imagine that. He was about to reply when his phone chirped. He fished it out of his pocket. Nyota was calling.

"Where are you?" she demanded as soon as he picked up. "Don't you realize that you have a meeting in five minutes?"

_What meeting?_ thought Kirk. "I'm in my_ house_," Kirk answered. "And of _course_ I know I have a meeting!"

"Liar. Get up here now."

"Alright," he said. "I'm on my way. Did you send out the press release?"

"Sure did."

"Is it heartwarming?" he asked.

"It's a complete tear-jerker," she replied.

"Good." he said, "I'm on my way." and with that, he hung up.

He turned to Spock. "Well, Mr. Spock," he said, "As much as I'd like to stay here and chat, I've got some business to attend to. I trust I will see you tomorrow?"

"Affirmative, sir," he answered. Kirk nodded and headed for the door, only looking back once.

* * *

**AN: I'm still not sure where I'm going with this, but I will make the next chapter more exciting. We will see McCoy again. I am open to and welcome all suggestions. Thank you for reading and enjoy.**


	3. Chapter 3

_Recap:_

_"Well, you know how crazy those ultra conservatives can get," Nyota said. "They already think you're the anti-Christ. You've got to do _something_ about it."_

_"God, everyone that's ever been in office is the anti-Christ at least once," Kirk said, laughing. "And besides, what do you suppose I do? Make a proposal to ban the cooking of tough chicken across America?"_

_Her expression didn't change._

_"Oh come on," he whined. "I'm not an anti-Christ. Geez. Where do you even get that idea from this-" he picked up the newspaper again "-article?"_

_"I don't know. Some people might think that the piece of chicken was a sign of the second coming of Christ."_

_He couldn't help it. He laughed. The idea was just so outlandish. "The second coming of...You're joking, right?"_

_Nyota just raised an eyebrow. "Just keep in mind, Mr. President, that not everyone likes you."_

**AN: Alright, so I haven't been doing this, and I don't want to get sued, so...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or any of the characters involved.**

Chapter Three

"I'm never going to live this down, am I?" Kirk asked, sliding the newspaper back over the desk to Leonard. They were lounging in the Oval Office, both of them with things more important needing to be done. The headline was A BITE TOO BIG? and concerned Kirk's proposal to Congress for gay marriage.

"Nope," Leonard said, "And it's also never going to pass. I know my Congress too well." he fished into his leather suitcase and pulled out a neat stack of clipped papers. Here's their idea."

Their idea, as it seemed, was to outline in the Constitution to make marriage specifically between a man and a woman. Kirk couldn't deny it fast enough. Whipping out a fountain pen, he scrawled angrily at the top of the page, '_NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN'_, and slid it back across the desk to McCoy.

"_I've_ got you loud and clear, Jim," he said, tucking it away in his suitcase again and zipping it back up. "But what if it passes anyway?"

"It will _not_ pass anyway," Kirk said gravely.

"That's not really your decision, now is it?"

"Still," Kirk said, "Over my dead body."

"It better not be over your dead body!" he cried. "I don't want to replace you!" He leaned forward and put his hand on the desk. "You're getting too excited. You've only been in office for six weeks. Maybe you should have started off with a proposal that wasn't so...controversial."

Kirk stood up, his chair groaning in protest. "Whatever," he said. "I've got to go. I don't want to be late for my flight."

* * *

"Ah, Agent Spock," Kirk acknowledged. The agent with the brown eyes and big ears was holding the car door open for him. "To whom do I owe the pleasure?"

"Mr. Pike, sir. I am your assigned bodyguard. It is my duty to accompany and protect you on trips."

Kirk ran his tongue over his lips. Was the agent bold enough to actually flirt with him? He was about to find out, but then caught sight of Janice's mahogany hair in the back seat of the car. With a slight twinge of disappointment, Kirk slid into the back seat. Janice shot him a smile and he tried to smile back. Spock shut the door and promptly sat down in the front passenger.

* * *

When they got to the terminal, Janice threw her arms around Kirk.

"I'm going to miss you, honey," she said.

Feeling very confused and a little dejected, he rubbed her back, saying, "I'll miss you too." he couldn't keep the puzzlement out of his voice. He'd thought...for some crazy, ungodly reason...that she was going with him. H'm. He couldn't imagine why. Possibly because it was his first trip across the country? Maybe because she was his wife and the first lady?

They really needed to work on their communication skills.

She broke away. Kirk bent over to kiss her, but she pulled back. Man. He'd thought he'd at _least_ get a kiss goodbye. Maybe she hadn't noticed...

...that Spock was coming.

This shouldn't have come as a surprise to him. Spock was, after all, his bodyguard. Even so, Kirk couldn't help but to smile stupidly as they boarded the private jet together. Spock_ was_ a very attractive man indeed.

* * *

"This is how things will proceed." Spock said once the plane lifted off. "At 18:00 hours we are to arrive at the San Francisco terminal. From there we will promptly leave to the Hyatt Hotel approximately two miles away..."

"Spock."

He looked up from his tablet. "Yes?"

"What is your full name?"

He blinked. Slowly, he said, "My name is of foreign origin. You would not be able to pronounce it."

"Tell me anyway."

Spock rattled off a first name that started with a T and ended with a J. In between it and an equally unpronounceable last name, Kirk caught 'Spock'. After a silent, confused minute, Spock explained, "My father is Japanese."

_And your mother is a crack head?_ Kirk wanted to ask, but he bit his tongue.

"Would you like for me to continue?" he asked.

Kirk nodded. He thought he'd meant about himself, but he had actually meant about the schedule. Kirk soon stopped him again.

"Spock, where are you from?"

"Mississippi."

"_Missi-_what?!" Kirk couldn't hold back his surprise. Spock, the half-Japanese secret service agent, was from that horrid, ultra-conservative cesspool of a state? "You don't strike me as being from Mississippi."

It was only then that Spock showed even the slightest hint of being annoyed. "Mr. President," he said, "With all due respect, we need to review this..."

Kirk held up a hand. "Don't call me that."

Spock's right eyebrow shot up. "Pardon, sir?"

"Mr. President. My name is Jim Kirk."

"I apologize, sir," he said, sounding slightly confused. "But what would you have me call you?"

"Jim," he said, "Call me Jim. This 'Mr. President' stuff is getting _way_ too formal."

"Uh." Spock paused. "Yes, Mr...Jim."

Had he just said _'uh'_? The poor man must have been seriously at a loss. Kirk's smile spread from one ear to the other.

"May I continue, Jim?" he forced his name out painfully, like a foreign word.

Finally he decided to cut him some slack. "Yes, Spock, you may continue."

* * *

Once he was in the hotel, Kirk made a phone call to Janice.

"Hey, honey!" she exclaimed as soon as he picked up.

"Hi, Janice," he said. "I just got here. what are you doing?"

"Oh, not much," she said. "Just...cleaning up." Was that a voice he heard in the background? Where was she?

"Oh, I see," he said slowly. "Well, you know, I..."

"Hey, honey, can you call back later?"

"What?" his eyebrows furrowed. He'd thought for sure that she had_ just said_ she wasn't doing much. Why did she suddenly want to get off the phone?

"I'm a little busy right now. Will you call me in the morning?"

_She_ was busy? For the second half of the flight, he had discussed foreign trade with the Secretary of State and the amendment to marriage that his backward-assed Congress had suggested with Leonard. She was cleaning. _Cleaning!_

"I thought you just said..."

"Goodbye, honey!"

_Click._

Kirk stood there staring at the phone screen for a good minute, unable to process what had just happened. A sharp rap at the door broke through his stupor, and he went to go answer it. It was Spock, wearing sunglasses again. Kirk felt a certain flutter of disappointment at his inability to see the agent's eyes.

"We are leaving for dinner in five minutes, Jim," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Do you think my wife is cheating on me?"

Spock just stared. Slowly, carefully, he asked, "Are you feeling alright?"

Kirk shook his head. He must have sounded insane. Had he _really_ just asked a secret service agent that he had met six weeks ago if his _wife_ was cheating on him? "I'm sorry, agent. I just got off the phone with my wife." he stepped outside and Spock closed the door behind him. He babbled on, against his better judgment. "She said she wasn't doing much. Then she said she was busy and hung up on me. Do you think she's cheating on me?"

A pause. Kirk didn't know why he had even asked. The agent did not know his wife and probably did not care. Why he was putting him in this awkward situation was beyond him. Still, it shocked him when they began walking and Spock inquired of him, "Permission to speak freely?"

He sighed. "I am giving you permanent permission to speak freely."

His head whipped around, as if he were shocked, but he uttered a "thank you, sir" in a perfect monotone that did not betray anything. "I can find no logical reason for your wife to make such a contradiction. But, as you say, I was not there."

Kirk shook his head, feeling a little calmer now. "I'm sorry," he said. "I don't know what I'm thinking."

"It is quite all right," Spock replied.

They had reached the elevator, where a male blonde agent was stationed with a gun. He pressed a button and the doors dinged open. With Spock on his right and the other agent on his left, they went down. On the way down, Kirk wondered where _Spock's_ gun was. He must have had one. But where was it? How many ways could one hide a deadly hunk of metal?

The door slid open. the second agent stepped out, gun raised the slightest degree, head swiveling from the left to the right.

"Clear," he said.

They stepped out. They lobby was bright, pristine, clean...and empty. Empty because of him. He shivered. It was never like this when he was a governor. It almost scared him; it was all just so surreal.

Janice should have been here.

But then they walked across the lobby and out into the night. By the time he was in the car, he was back to being confident, country-leading President James Tiberius Kirk. Nyota, Leonard, and Janice, along with all the rest of his friends, may have been in D.C., but Kirk wasn't alone. He had the service agents, whose job it was to protect him.

And, he had Spock.

* * *

**AN: Alright, so the half-Japanese thing was probably a stretch. What do you guys think? Bad or good? Mississippi is...uh, sort of like Vulcan. It's...hot, ya know? **

**Over and out.**


	4. Chapter 4

_They had reached the elevator, where a male blonde agent was stationed with a gun. He pressed a button and the doors dinged open. With Spock on his right and the other agent on his left, they went down. On the way down, Kirk wondered where Spock's gun was. He must have had one. But where was it? How many ways could one hide a deadly hunk of metal?_

_The door slid open. the second agent stepped out, gun raised the slightest degree, head swiveling from the left to the right._

_"Clear," he said._

_They stepped out. They lobby was bright, pristine, clean...and empty. Empty because of him. He shivered. It was never like this when he was a governor. It almost scared him; it was all just so surreal._

_Janice should have been here._

_But then they walked across the lobby and out into the night. By the time he was in the car, he was back to being confident, country-leading President James Tiberius Kirk. Nyota, Leonard, and Janice, along with all the rest of his friends, may have been in D.C., but Kirk wasn't alone. He had the service agents, whose job it was to protect him._

_And, he had Spock._

* * *

**AN: Alright, so I lied. But...who reads these things anyway, huh? Ahaha...**

**...At any rate, I think I'm getting better at the political thing. Maybe I should run for governor. **

* * *

Chapter Four

The next morning, Kirk was jerked out of a dream by the ringing of the hotel's phone. he picked it up, still groggy from sleep and tangled in cool morning sheets, eyes still closed.

"Hello?"

"Good morning, Jim." came a stiff formality from the other end.

"Agent Spock." he murmured, sitting up. "What's...up?"

Spock paused, presumably trying to figure out what he meant by 'up'. Finally, he said, "It is precisely 0600 hours. I was going to the lobby for breakfast. What would you like?"

Kirk ran a hand through his unruly hair. "Just...get me whatever you're having."

"Will you be alright with a vegetarian breakfast?"

"You're a vegetarian?" He shook his head. "Yeah, whatever. Surprise me."

After Spock hung up, he curled back up into his covers. He reached for his phone and watched as the clock changed from 06:01 to 06:02. He mulled over whether or not to call Janice. Would she even be up? She should be; Washington DC was three hours ahead of San Fran. Deciding that it was worth a shot, he dialed up her number. It rang six times before, not altogether surprisingly, going to voicemail. Promptly he hung up.

Well. It was 06:02 in the morning. Past time for him to be up. Kirk stumbled out of bed and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Knowing that Spock would be there with warm food before he'd be able to finish his shower, he decided to wait until after breakfast for that. He was still in his boxers when Spock arrived at his door. When he opened up, though, Spock, who looked immaculate in a black suit and tie, either did not notice or tried very hard to not notice.

"Here is your breakfast, sir," he said, handing him a tray. On it sat half a bagel, an orange, oatmeal with brown sugar, and two packages of butter to the side. Only then did it strike him that a service agent was his room service.

"Do they not allow hotel employees on this floor?" he asked.

Spock shook his head. "This floor has been reserved for you and the other agents accompanying. Only agents are allowed to come and go."

Whoa. An entire floor to himself? Wasn't that a little...much? Apparently, the secret service was no stranger to excess. He didn't say this to Spock though, choosing only to nod. Eyeing the bagel, he picked it up and bit into it with the tray still held in the agent's hands. "Thank you," he added while still chewing, moving to take the tray. Their fingers brushed.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" Spock asked.

Kirk shook his head. "No, agent, that's all." Knowing he wasn't allowed to leave until his say, he added, "You're dismissed."

With that, Spock left.

* * *

Kirk was giving Nyota a _big_ raise when he got back to Washington D.C.

"The time for change has come! It is time for peace, acceptance, of all mankind."

Kirk stared out at the people that had assembled. He was at the Golden Gate College's auditorium, speaking about his amendment to the marital definition in the Constitution. The room was bright and airy, wine-red curtains billowing on the sides of the wide stage where he stood facing the audience that had come to hear his(Nyota's) speech.

"Regardless of race, gender, creed, or sexuality, acceptance must come to pass. It is necessary to pass this amendment not only for our lives but for the lives of our children and grandchildren, so that they might live without the fear of being judged.

"The time had come!" he bellowed, and the crowd went wild. Satisfied, he smiled. San Francisco seemed to want the amendment. As for his backward assed Congress, though...

Kirk looked back down at his speech, flipping his page over. He was about to begin again when he got the notion that something was...off. That there was something in the air. He sniffed once, and then again, just to be sure. Smoke. It smelled exactly like smoke.

What_ was_ that?

His speech forgotten, the crowd fell into confused, apprehensive murmurs. So they'd noticed too. With confirmation that he wasn't crazy, Kirk picked up the microphone and gave it a tentative sniff. Wasn't that. He turned to Spock, who was standing directly behind him.

"Do you smell that?" he asked quietly, but Spock's attention was diverted elsewhere, his gaze to the crowd. He slowly brought a hand up to his ear to turn on the earpiece, proceeding to mutter softly into it. To Kirk this sent a very definite message...something was _wrong._

At that moment, a paunchy, mousy-haired lady in the middle of the audience sprang up, pointing a trembling finger toward the curtains. "FIRE!" she screamed.

_Fire?!_

Kirk's head whipped around. Two agents were already down the steps when he caught sight of the corner of the red curtain, engulfed in a fiery blaze. A bubble of shocked screams erupted from the front of the room. The secret agents, statue still before, were now running around like carpenter ants.

"Come on," Spock urged, gripping his forearm.

"Where..." Kirk began, but he was already being dragged back stage. One more agent jogged past them, nearly clipping their shoulders.

"What's going on?" Kirk demanded. He looked back. Now not only could he smell the smoke, but he could see it, too. It was deep smoke, black smoke. The kind of smoke that was produced by something that was not meant to be burned.

"You know as well as I do," he replied evenly. Coming to a door, Spock opened it and looked around. Once he was sure that the coast was clear, he led Kirk out into an empty, well ventilated and spacious corridor. He broke off then, muttering into his earpiece once more. Spock paced. Kirk scowled and crossed his arms, watching. A fire. This had to be some sort of cosmic joke. Could he even get through one speech without landing on the front page of the news for his own unluckiness? Irritated, he shook his head.

But then again, that fire...if it got out of control...

After a few minutes which felt like eternity, Spock said, "Understood," pressed a button on his earpiece, and turned to Kirk. Kirk stepped forward, grabbing the agent's hands on impulse.

"What did they say?" He had to know.

"It has been put out." Spock didn't miss a beat.

"Good," Kirk said, heaving a sigh of relief. "Then, I'll just go back out...right?"

Spock hesitated. He looked almost...no, he did look...worried. "We...do not know the exact cause of the fire." he explained. "I have been ordered to escort you back to the hotel."

He shook his head, scoffing and allowing a hysterical grin to peek out on his lips. "You don't _actually_ think that someone_ started_ that fire, do you?" The very thought was ridiculous.

So what was Spock so worried about?

Spock didn't answer, just giving him a steely look. He continued.

"I have a speech to finish. There's no reason I shouldn't go back out. Everyone's still there, right?"

Realizing that his hands still rested atop Spock's, he quickly let them fall to his sides. He made an about face and began to walk back, but he didn't make it two steps before Spock grabbed his wrist with a force that made him wince.

"I am your bodyguard." he said, voice suddenly lowered. "It is my duty to protect you. You are putting yourself at an unnecessary risk."

It was then that it dawned on him what the real problem was. It was the Secret Service's purpose to protect him from any and all dangers, be it a crazy deranged man with a gun or a simple fire. By having to intervene in putting out a fire, the service was admitting that they had made a mistake. And the fact that they didn't know what had started the fire was even more evidence to this conclusion...the conclusion that they had failed in their very utmost duty...to keep _him_ safe.

He couldn't help but to smile. "So_ that's_ what it is. How _sweet_ of you."

His grip loosened on his arm. His jaw worked. His mouth stayed clamped shut.

Kirk stood up a little straighter, making sure to enunciate clearly.

"I_ am_ going back out there."

After a tensely silent minute, Spock let go. Slowly he brought his hand to his earpiece again, yapping back into it.

"He wants to finish the speech."

Kirk could hear the voice even through the earpiece. _"Is he crazy?"_

"Evidently." was Spock's only answer.

At this, Kirk couldn't help but laugh. "Oh Spock," he said, "You're_ so_ cute when you're annoyed."

This earned him a very annoyed glare indeed.

* * *

His smile only faltered once as he was walking back to stage. Why?

Well, because someone may well have started that fire, and if that was the case, Kirk was in knee deep in boiling hot water.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The next day at Washington was an unending string of meetings, only one of which covered the little...fire incident which, thankfully, only landed on one tabloid, though not in a very flattering light. The tabloid, which was given to him by his wonderful Secretary Nyota, was a wild conspiracy theory that was sure to go viral. But Kirk wasn't worried about that. Much.

The first meeting had actually began not even half an hour after he'd arrived back at Washington. He had left for his flight at 0430, but once he got back it was a late 1000. He'd at least wanted a cup of joe before having to listen to Willis Fields antagonize him all throughout a conference on the subject of marriage, but he didn't even get that much.

"...is just an idealistic view hat will never become a reality," Willis rambled on and on, while Kirk absently tapped the silver butt of his pencil against the table. He looked around. Spock was in the corner. He was looking at him. with those wonderful brown eyes of his, those strong arms crossed over his chest...

The room was silent. Willis had finally shut up. Slowly, Kirk drifted back to attention.

"I don't see what the problem is."

Willis gave a very loud, very irritated sigh. "Mr. President..." he began, but Kirk cut him off with a flick of his wrist.

"I do not see how this plan will NOT benefit everyone." he said simply.

"That's because you're a blind man led only by your crazy ideals!" snapped Willis.

"Willis."

Willis's face became red and bloated with anger. He did, however, close his mouth for good.

Kirk straightened up and stifled the strong urge to yawn. "Look, you guys," he addressed the fifteen Congressmen at the table, "I want this bill passed. I think it will benefit our country and that it's not a crazy idea. And, I think its well about time." He dropped the pencil on the table and scooted back audbily in his chair. "Is there a motion to adjourn?"

A voice from the end of the table. "I make a motion."

"All in favor?"

Every hand went up except for Willis's. Kirk gave him a pointed look as he asked, "Any opposed?"

Nothing.

"This meeting is adjourned."

Everyone stood up with a mumble. Some chuckled. A few stretched. Kirk sat and watched. Spock gravitated over while McCoy barged through a group of three.

"So what's this I hear about a fire?" he asked immediately.

Kirk rubbed his butt of his palm against his forehead. "I don't even know, man."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Kirk stood up and he and Leonard moved toward the door, Spock trailing behind them like a ghost in black.

"No one really knows."

"Well what the hell does that mean?" demanded his Vice President.

"Nothing. Something. Ah, hell. Agent?"

Spock didn't miss a beat. "We have not completely concluded the cause of the fire. Althought we have come to believe that it was electrical in nature, no evidence exists at present to confirm or deny this hypothesis."

Kirk nodded, smug. "There you have it."

McCoy just stared. "Damnit, Jim, I'm a politician, not a scientist. Who is this man, anyway?"

"This is Spock," he said. "He's my...very intelligent slave of sorts."

Was it just him or did Spock's cheeks go red? Ooh. He'd hit a nerve, or so it seemed.

They entered a large room with round tables set all around. There were four seats at each table and a steaming plate of food at each. Thankfully it was steak, not chicken, served with rice, green beans, and mashed potatoes. Kirk sat down at a table and McCoy beside him. He put his head in his hands and thought: _What the hell have I gotten myself into?_

He lifted his head to look at McCoy. He fidgeted a little, adjusted his tie from time to time. It was green. Maybe Leonard needed to hire someone to pick out his clothes for him, because for Nyota, green would not have done at all. Maybe blue...No, _navy_ blue. That's what he was wearing today.

Kirk noticed the way Leonard's arm rested on the table. In his past life, he, too, had been a governor, and it would have been impossible for Leonard to be as casual about this as, for instance, Willis was. As cheesy as it sounded, they were in this mess together.

"I am pretty young for a president, aren't I?" Kirk mused.

Leonard looked up at him and scoffed. "The hell did that come from, Jim?" He shook his head and picked up a knife, cutting into the steak.

Kirk gazed around the room. It was amazing how far the fifteen people at the meeting had spread out. Willis and three other senators sat at a table smack dab in the middle of the room and laughed, making Kirk feel as if their table was on the edge of the universe.

"So..." Leonard began.

An arm extended over Kirk's shoulder from behind. At then end was a cup.

"Coffee?" asked Spock.

Coffee. Coffee! Where had the agent found coffee? He hadn't even had to ask!

Spock was a god. Obviously.

Without really thinking about it, Kirk wrapped his fingers around the cup and slightly stood to kiss Spock on the cheek. "Thanks, hun," he said.

It was only when he sat down and took a sip of the coffee that he ralized what he'd done...that not only had he called his personal bodygaurd, who knew three different types of martial arts, 'hun' but also that he'd kissed him. He felt his ears heat as he looked over to Leonard, who, thankfully, was stooped over his food. He cautiously glanced up to Spock. Other than maybe getting stiffer, he didn't acknowledge what had just happened at all.

Kirk was tired. He knew that. He didn't know _how_ tired. Something about thecoffee. It must have been.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Uh." he said. "Sit down, Spock. Eat."

Spock shifted. "With all due respect, sir, I..."

"Surely secret service agents have to eat too," McCoy compromised gruffly. "Sit the hell down."

Told by two different authorites now, Spock sat. "I do eat," he made sure to point out.

Leonard looked up. "Doesn't seem like it. The steak isn't bad, really. Just eat."

"I'm a vegetarian," Spock said flatly.

"Damn." he muttered. "An agent with an attitude."

Kirk had never seen Spock glare before, and, he had to admit, it was pretty intimidating. His next words were as pointed as daggers.

"My culture is different from yours."

McCoy acted as if he had just been insulted. He opened his mouth to respond, saying, "Listen, agent..."

Before he could finish, Kirk cut in. "The potatoes are good too. Gentlemen." he looked at both of them in turn. "Eat."

Very deliberately, Spock picked up a fork and stuck it into the potatoes. Kirk, finally relaxing, took another gulp of coffee and set it down to begin eating as well. After a couple of silent moments, he realized that Leonard was watching him.

"What?" he asked, very pristinely with food still in his mouth.

"Where did the coffee come from?!"

* * *

When Wilis saw what Kirk had done, he nearly choked on the steak that he was chewing.

Was...was Kirk...

_Was_ he? Could he?

It sure as hell looked like it.

But...surely he didn't think...that he'd actually get away with it, did he?

Willis looked back to his plate. No one else had seen. Even the secret service agents lining the wall were looking away.

But surely...eventually, _someone_ would have the obligation to report.

* * *

"Jim."

It was the first time he'd seen Janice in two days. She stood in the threshold of the great badroom, holding onto it with one manicured hand, the dim light outlinging the sheer drop from her panties to her thigh, all the way down to her tiny bare feet, slightly flexed. She held one finger to her lips, which she ran her tongue over. The finger dropped and caught in the mid-section of her lacy black bra.

Whoa. Kirk dropped the bill her was holding, as well as his jaw.

She cleanly drifted over, picking up the paper and setting it neatly down on the night stand. She then swang her legs and the rest of her body on top of his, their chests together. She metled her lips to his.

And it should have...should have...felt good.

So why didn't he feel anything?

"Janice..."

"Jim."

"I...can't..."

Suddenly his phone buzzed, startling both of them. He felt Janice start. He moved up, but she stopped him.

"Don't answer it."

The phone continued to buzz.

"I have to."

"No, you don't."

Their eyes locked.

"Yes, I do." He gripped her by the shoulders and gently plied her off of him, proceeding to lean over and answer the phone. It was Nyota, calling to say that the Service had found "something" regarding the circumstances behind yesterday's fire, and that they were having a conference. Good thing he still had on his suit and blue tie.

The meeting was nothing, really. It was Spock, getting up in front of them (he and Nyota) and explaining that the tiniest bit of sulfur, used in matches, was found at the scene. But that didn't _really_ tell them anything. It could have been completely coincidental. The instruments could be off. Water contained traces of sulfur. But that was all they found.

So there it was. Stalemate.

* * *

**AN: No, the rating will not be moving up. Let me know if you dont like the idea...not all ideas are good ideas, and i recognize that. Thanks again for the feedback! **

** .**


	6. Chapter 6

**_AN: Sorry for the long wait. I've just started going to school and CAP meetings. Anyway, this story probably won't be much more than four more chapters long. _**

**_Thanks for reading. _**

* * *

Chapter Six

Despite the oddness, by his sixth month in office, Kirk's approval rating was up to 80 percent. It seemed that the American people liked something he was doing. Maybe nothing was just that (his Congress shot down every idea he had; he shot down every idea that they had). Or maybe it was the fact that, taking the wise Nyota's advice, he'd started going to an Episcopalian church. It had been a compromise; Episcopalian was probably one of the most liberal denominations there was, but it was still Christian. His pet church, he'd called it.

That was where he was on Sunday morning, trying to discreetly answer a text message from his Secretary of Defense. He wanted to know what his opinion was on nuclear warheads.

He felt someone nudge him in the side. "Jim."

His head whipped up. Beside him, Spock stood up. Quickly, he slipped his phone into his pocket and scrambled up. A procession was coming down the aisle between the rows silently. His phone buzzed once, then again.

"Dammit, Bill," he muttered to himself. Then, over his shoulder: "Spock?"

"Yes, Jim?"

Janice glanced over. Kirk gritted his teeth. The night before, they'd slept on opposite ends of the bed, Kirk still with his tie and shoes on and Janice clad in skimpy black lace. Yes, it had happened again. Suddenly he recalled the dream he'd had the night before, along with a rush of guilt as he imagined again his bodyguard naked.

Focus.

Someone was holding up the gospel. Another was reading it loudly. His phone was still ringing.

Oh. That was why...

"Spock." he repeated.

"Yes."

He remembered again, how in the dream everything was white and bright, and soft and cool...The white sand of an unknown beach, the white light from the sun, the white foam of the sea. These guilty images, playing in his mind, first next to wife in bed, then next to his wife in the pew at church.

"...and the Lord said, 'Repent, sinner, for you have surely..."

Kirk suddenly broke out of his stupor. He glanced at Spock from the corner of his eye.

"Let's bust this joint."

"Understood."

* * *

It took two hurried calls through Spock's earpiece and three more service agents, but Kirk was now out of the sanctuary. Once out, Kirk's phone began to ring again. Quickly, he told Spock that he wanted to go to the bathroom. Spock spoke to the three other gaurds, who stationed themselves at the door.

"Look, Bill. You know they won't use them."

"Who are you? Aren't you supposed to be the Commander and Cheif of the Armed Forces? Oh, wait. That's right. You haven't served a day in your life. You have no idea how the military is supposed to be run!"

Well, it wasn't like Bill had ever passed basic training, either, but it was useless to point this out to him now. Kirk glanced up at Spock, who was standing casually at a parade rest. He was probably better suited for Commander and Cheif than he was.

"I need to speak to someone else about this. Can I call you in an hour?"

"Whatever. It took me an hour to get through to you. You'd better call me -"

Click.

Kirk sighed and fell back onto the sink. "This stuff is killing me." He looked back to Spock.

"They will not use them."

A pause. "What?"

"I have been in the army for twn years," Spock said, "The special ops for five. I've seen humanity at its worst. They fear the only thing worth fearing-fear itself." he paused. "They will not use them, sir."

Fear itself. Was that it? But what was fear? He didn't understand.

"May I ask a question, sir?"

"Go ahead," Kirk mumbled. Spock wanted to ask _him_ a question?

He stared straight at him with those brown eyes of his and asked, "Are you afraid?"

Kirk felt the edges of his lips inch upward. Was Spock...toying with him? "No. I'm not afraid." Bringing home this point, he stepped forward, reaching for Spock's waist, very lightly bringing himself to the agent. He tilted his head upwards and kissed him.

He pulled back and grinned up at him. "I'm not afraid," he repeated. "Are you?" He leaned in again, but this time, Spock very slowly pulled back.

"With all due respect, Jim..."

Kirk lifted his lips to Spock's neck. He was warm. "Spock."

"We should not do this."

Kirk jerked back. "And why the hell not?"

"Do you not think of the reprecussions?"

"Didn't you just say that the only thing to fear was fear itself?"

Spock was caught now in his own trap. Instead of backing down, however, he asked, "Permission to touch?"

A perfect military-esque approach. Kirk couldn't resist. "Permission granted."

Spock's hands stopped at his sides. He had a very light touch, despite the fact that he was extemely strong.

"Is this what you want?" he asked. Could it be possible for him to speak more flatly? Just from this simple touch, though, a thrill ran through him. Why did he not feel this with his wife last night, or the last time before that? Spock was exciting; she wasn't. Spock was someone he never should've, or would've, met in any other life.

"Spock," he said simply. "You are a brave man."

What an odd conversation. Might as well make it odder.

"Kiss me, Spock."

"I do not think..."

"Just do it. That's a direct order."

For the slightest moment, Spock seemed uncertain. Then his fingers dug into Kirk's sides, and Spock's body melded into his. He tilted his head to the side and kissed him firmly, as if he could never have been more sure about anything. Kirk returned with a little too much enthusiasm, grabbing him eagarly with his hands and pushing the agent to the wall. They broke off.

"Spock."

With this, he kissed him again.

* * *

The sanctuary had been cold before, but now Kirk was exceedingly warm. Once back in their pew, Kirk looked at Spock once but did not look at him again. He gave a strained smile to Janice, who smiled back.

It was as if nothing had happened at all.

Unfortunately, they won't be able to get away with that for long.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

It was Tuesday in the Oval Office, and Kirk was celebrating. McCoy was over there for business, but soon after the news reports began to pour in, they were cheering. Two secret service agents had been sent for champayne. Twice.

"I can't believe our luck!" Leonard said, popping the second cork.

"I can. The American people must have gotten fed up." He paused, then added, "Finally."

When Spock came in, Kirk beckoned him over. When he came over, Kirk threw an arm around his shoulder and gave him a very un-subtle kiss on the cheek.

"God, Jim," exclaimed McCoy, "You're drunk. Go home!"

"I_ am_ home," he shouted, realizing with a grin that it was true. This...Washington...it was his home.

He had to admit, it was nice having at least one thing go his way. The men and women in Congress were being voted on again, as they were every two years, and, now, the vast horde of Republicans were being replaced by an equal horde of Democrats. Kirk couldn't have been happier. Perhaps that was why Spock was looking way sexier than usual (which wasn't saying much). And why he hadn't even acknowledged the other agent in the corner.

"I really like you, Spock. You know that?" he said.

Spock avoided answering. "Jim. I did come here for a reason."

"Of course. So serious. Another thing I like about you."

McCoy sniggered under his inebriated breath.

"You are scheduled to have dinner tonight at Grill 89 for an interview."

"Will you be there?"

"If you wish, I will attend. If it is that you are too drunk, however..."

"Great! So I don't have to go?"

"Well. I would not recommend..."

Leonard grunted. "Who is he having the interview with? Scott Pelly on passing bills while under the influence?"

With a frown, Spock conceded. "I should take you back to your room."

Kirk's other arm draped over his other shoulder. His nose nuzzled into Spock's neck. "Spoooooock," he groaned.

Spock glanced at the other agent, who looked a little taken aback. Wordlessly, they left the room, Spock carrying Kirk on his back with the drunk man's hands around his neck, carrying his feet. When they came to his room, he turned to the curly-haired agent.

"If you'll excuse me?"

The agent nodded, flushing the slightest bit pink. That was okay. He knew.

Once inside, Kirk dropped from Spock's hold. They faced each other. The reaction was instant now, after three months.

"Spock."

"Jim."

Their lips met.

* * *

Willis was pacing the room of his office. He'd told her to call. Would she? Yes, it was a desperate act, but desperate times called for desperate measures. And now, since the Congress was becoming blue, it was definitely a desperate time.

He had to get Kirk _out_. Now. And this was the only way.

Five minutes later, he got the call.

* * *

In the dark, wrapped up in each other, Spock spoke. He spoke of all that Kirk had ever wondered of him-about his childhood, his two tours in Iraq; even let him touch a bullet wound he'd received to the shoulder. It was the first time it had happened; it seemed as if the man were finally warming up to him.

Then the soft conversation took a odd turn.

"Jim," Spock said, "We need to be prepared, in case anything were to...happen."

"Happen?" Kirk was confused. "What could possibly happen?"

"Something will, inevitably." he continued. "You must be aware...I am willing to give my life for you."

"Spock," he said, startled, "When did this become a conversation of life and death?"

"It's not," he replied, "It is rather a conversation of fear."

Kirk ran his hand through Spock's hair. "I'm still not afraid. I don't care what happens. I won't leave you."

"Nor will I."

That was the end of that. Spock stole away at well after 0100 hours. Kirk slept through this as well as a phone call from his wife. And he dreamed, again, of the man whom no one could possibly know about.


End file.
